


A Forgotten Timeline

by orphan_account



Series: Discord Sans [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 11:25:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7713190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a post that I wrote for an ongoing RP for my Sans, and the Mettaton in question is another person involved in that RP. It was my first post of this length, although there is another (much more recent) post to come. As this was several months ago, I can now see a lot of areas I could have improved on, but I decided to post this as it was. Any criticism is appreciated as long as it is constructive, saying where improvements could be made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Forgotten Timeline

Sans lay on the couch he was seated on, and fell asleep. His thoughts were troubled with his Mettaton, and he fell asleep with the hope that he would one day see him again. Maybe one day he would be able to propose.

_The blood-curdling sound of knife on bone. The sting of the blade across his chest._  
_**9999999**_  
Sans clutched his chest, falling to his knees. A red liquid began to seep through the gash in his clothes, the entire length of the cut crimson on his shirt. Eyes wide, pupils small, his perpetual smile dropped. The human smiled, drawing their knife across their lips. One hundred and forty two resets. Before the human moved on, Sans asked them: “why?”. The human’s smile and eyes widened, their face the picture of insanity. Since it was going to be the last time, they decided to enlighten him.

_The last time._

The hundred-and-forty-second reset was the last. The human had won. This, the hundred-and-forty-third timeline, was where it ended. They promised Sans that there would be no more resets. What was wrong? _Wasn’t that what he wanted from the start? Poor Sans. He’d never be able to see them again._ The human laughed. They had killed everyone, just like all those times before, but this time there was no going back. No reset. Perhaps they could have ended on the surface. Perhaps, in a different life, everything could have worked out. Papyrus and Mettaton would still have been alive, and Sans could have lived out his life in peace. But that wasn’t what they wanted. The human had let them in, and now they were taking control for good. First, monsters. Then, humankind. The demon that comes when you speak its name. They say that giving a demon a name gives it power. That was certainly what they had. The human had given them their soul every time, giving up their control piece by piece. The human laughed again, swinging the knife as they walked the remaining length of the Judgement Hall. They had won.

The flame in Sans’ eye socket continued to flash yellow and cyan as it had during the fight. Justice and Patience. Not just Justice for himself, but Justice for everyone. Not just the Patience of waiting until the human reached the Judgement Hall each time, but Patience throughout one hundred and forty two resets. He couldn’t let them take it away from him. The flame began to shift.

Blue. Integrity. He would uphold his duty as the Judge. He would uphold the balance he sought to protect with his honour.

Green. Kindness. He would do it for Papyrus, for Mettaton, for everyone who never had a chance. He would do it out of kindness.

Orange. Bravery. He would stand his ground against all odds. He must face the human with bravery, and never back down.

Purple. Perseverance. One hundred and forty two resets. One hundred and forty three timelines. One goal. To stop the human at all costs.

Sans stood. Still clutching his chest, the flame in his eye flashing rapidly. He took one shaky step towards the human walking across the hall, followed by another, and another. His resolve would power through. The red liquid soaked his clothes and his bones. It gave him strength.

Red. Determination.

Sans raised his arm in front of him. He grabbed what remained of the human’s soul. He pulled them towards him. The flame in his eye glowed bright crimson, a determination-soaked gash in his chest. He looked the human dead in the eyes, and smiled. Throwing the human against one of the pillars, he could feel his body trying to give up. The determination was not something he was used to. He wouldn’t let it give up. He was determined. Determined to stop the human, to restore the timeline, and to reach the surface. He was determined to be with Mettaton. Determination coursing through his bones, he unleashed an immense attack at the human.

0/92

**GAME OVER**

The human, of course, tried to reset. Something blocked them. Sans looked down at the soul of the human, when two buttons appeared in his view.

**[CONTINUE] [RESET]**

His determination had somehow overpowered the human’s. He had control over the timeline. He had the power to reset everything they had done. From within the human’s soul, he heard a genuinely pleading cry. If his mind hadn’t already been made up, that had done it. He reset.

This time, Sans followed the human. One hundred and forty three times before this, he had played out his life as he should, only slightly altering the way he was. This time, he wasn’t letting anything go wrong. Knowing that Sans had the power to reset, the human was merciful. Eventually, they reached the surface. Sans continued to follow the human for a while to ensure the safety of the timeline. It was over. The human disappeared. Sans, powered by determination, had done it. He hadn’t even realised how much time had passed. A sudden thought came to mind: Mettaton. Every other time, he had watched Mettaton fall in love all over again. This time, he had spent all of his time watching the human. He felt his soul sink in his chest. Mettaton. He took off to find his love, only to find that Mettaton was in the arms of his best friend, Grillby. He barely even knew him. Sans was too late. He had spent so much time trying to save the timeline that he had neglected Mettaton, and now he could see how happy he was without him. He felt his determination ebb.

Snow crunching underfoot. Walking through Snowdin once more, Sans was numb. Trudging through the deep snow towards the Ruins, tears falling onto the snow. He sat outside the Ruins with his knees drawn into his chest, his face in his arms. For three days he sat there. For three days he waited for the human to walk through those doors, for everything to have started over. But of course, the human never did. For three days Sans waited, and on the eve of the third day he stood. Dragging himself through the snow, he came to his old station. He sat inside, lay his face on his arms on the snowy surface, and wept. Mettaton was gone. He had ruined it. Weeping until all he could manage was a few pathetic sobs, Sans made a vow. He would not use what remained of his determination to reset. He couldn’t put everyone through that again. Instead, he used what remained of his determination to completely erase his memory of this timeline. It was better to think that Mettaton was waiting for him than to know that they could never be. He felt a tingling sensation in his head, followed by a sharp crack.

Gasping for air, Sans awoke on his couch. He had never experienced this nightmare before. He thought back to his arrival in this timeline. How he had awoken at his station in Snowdin, almost two years after the monsters had been liberated. That was when it struck him. That wasn’t just a nightmare.

It was the memory… 

_Of the one hundred and forty third reset._


End file.
